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Monday, 2 October 2017

Zombies have shown
themselves to be quite the versatile narrative tool. At one end of the spectrum
there's absurd farce and brainless splatter action, at the other, drama,
romance and even deep philosophical discourse. Zombies disturb the natural
order; they blur the demarcation of life and death, and that makes them
instantly and intrinsically perturbing yet curious. In response to the scares
and jumps there's always the need for disdain, ridicule and the need to reduce
the threat, and it's why zombies are as equally at home with comedy and farce as
they are in most gruesome and grizzly cinematic spectacular. But if we're willing to subdue the uncomfortable laughs, and turn away the horror to face the silence and darkness with sobriety, they can force us to confront what it is to be human
and alive, and they can provide the perfect metaphor for some serious reflection.

Ambitious in its
simplicity, Here Alone; directed by Rod Blackhurst and written by David
Ebeltoft is one such attempt. It's a film that puts life, more-so, subsistence
and survival at any and all cost, front and centre, then pushes from this to explore morality, relationship and hope as basic human conditions. Yet it never insults, as
often films that take themselves too seriously do, by actually trying to answer
the questions it poses. People are human, and humans err. We're complex, broken
and driven by our own desires, wants and obsessions; and we will act
irrationally, wrongly and we will be faced to deal with the consequences. Here
Alone embraces the chaos of life, warts and all, and spins a survival story that presents a what-if world with brevity and honesty.

As the film begins
Ann (Lucy Walters) paints a sorry figure watching her scrape
mud and excrement from her emaciated naked body is a harrowing vision of survivalist truth. It's
not the apocalypse from a beach front paradise, shopping mall utopia
nor even safe secluded, yet barren and simple, forest shack. She's humanity stripped to the bare bones; the embodiment of sad and desperate, cold and broken. It's
not shall I have the can of beans or soup tonight; it's how many beans should I have to be alive tomorrow.

Here Alone is Ann's personal story. From flashbacks to a time before the world fell to the violent, rabid
zombie viral pandemic, to her own haunting journey of loss, to
stark sober lessons from her husband Jason (Shane West), on survive in the wild, her story of is one of loss, redemption, and ultimately of recovery and
the renewal of hope. But it's a long harrowing journey, and one more of
narration and implication than ever visceral or obvious.

In fact I think
there are only a handful of scenes where the zombies actually make an
appearance, and even fewer where they're actually the focus. Yet, they're
actually as intense a threat, and as utterly terrifying as any zombie out
there. One can point to the modest budget, and short (23 day) shooting
calendar, but Blackhurst's decision to push the zombies to the periphery works
extremely well. Here Alone positions the zombies as the utterly final unknown
assailant, and Ann and her two eventual companions, Chris (Adam David
Thompson), and his teenage stepdaughter, Olivia (Gina Piersanti) as inevitable
victims. Each encounter oozes tension and dread, and each is memorable and
full of impact.

Here Alone won't be for everyone. As said it's not a horror, though there are some tense jumpy moments, and it's neither excessively gruesome nor an action spectacular. It is however a thoughtfully presented and intelligently constructed personal, intelligent and haunting tragedy that's both well acted and satisfyingly both complete and in many ways incomplete, and left open. It's a snapshot of how miserable and truly difficult life could be if the walls did actually come tumbling down, and a reminder to cherish what and who we have. Poignant and brave, Blackhurst's take on the apocalypse is bleak but captivating - 6/10.

Wednesday, 13 September 2017

Well it's been a
long ride for Alice (Milla Jovovich). Resuscitated with memory loss, attacked without mercy by the scourge of the undead and their corporate overlords, then
over the decade hunted and beset by all the increasingly monstrous and depraved super mutants that director Paul W. S. Anderson could conceive. She's been shot,
stabbed, sliced, diced and blown from the sky. She's been cloned, watched good friends die, learnt the dark secrets of her past and witnessed the world she knew torn a sunder. To say she's due a break is
an understatement but with this instalment, it would appear Anderson might just be finally letting us, and her, enjoy some kind of rest to the madness.

Over the ten years
and six chapters we've slowly but surely witnessed a profound cinematic transition to style over narrative, characters, or any real attempt at substance. It's as if someone gave control of the crazy dial to a young excitable boy and then kept ploughing him with coke long after he'd definitely had enough. From a gritty, claustrophobic
and earnest debut, success turned into cash, then into budget,
and finally unfettered approval to bring life to the most fantastical scenes and
effects, and thus did story, congruence and any concerns for character arcs,
in turn, fall to the way side. Part five was the epitome of action surplus; a
cacophony of battles and over the top and never-ending lunacy that failed utterly
to actually be engaging or rewarding precisely because of this deficit accrued. With The Final Chapter I'd argue that
while the giddy young fella seems relieved from his sugar purgatory, this
is for all intents and purposes the grand finale, and as such, why is there a want to temper things now. Whilst one can see a whisper of desire to return with Alice and the entourage to Racoon City, and to the intimacy and cinematic authenticity of where and when it all began, there's too much water under the bridge; too much superficial silliness to
ever really think they could.

By now we understand
that it's not the gold star action and cinematic wizardry that will let a Resident
Evil film down but the downtime, the moments of peace between the double back
flip, the Matrix style kung-fu, or the triple barrelled shot gun into
the giant toothy flying mutant of doom (I think a Kipepeo). Yet I've seen The
Final Chapter come in for a lot of criticism about how it's all been cut and
spliced together. Ultimately I think it comes down to personal taste, as I
didn't mind the frantic and chaotic shaky cam approach; in many ways recognising it as a nod to the perils and confusion of war. The fact that so much of it was
shot in near darkness however, I did, especially as Anderson to his credit does manage to return the simple un-mutated zombie back to the forefront for a large
swathe of the film, and it would have been nice if we could have really seen them in all their glory.

Another recurring
problem I have by now, is Alice's invulnerability. I'm all for the
epic hero, the Thor or Beowulf blessed by the Gods with incredible fortune as well as strength, but as all about her fall and as buildings tumble, one never get the feeling,
not for one second, that's she's actually in any real danger. The problem with winning the no-win scenario, is how do you follow it but with an equally implausible
one. It's the magicians conundrum. Day one it's escaping from a box, Day 100,
it's escaping from a box suspended over the Grand Canyon, on fire with a rat in
your underpants. Watching Alice, yet again dancing with the big Resident Evil
brute +1, or the next CGI enhanced video game inspired super boss, there's nothing really new, never any real tension and no tangible threat. Yet again, dare I say, it's all a tad
stale and insipid, and no, adding another rat or maybe a cat to the pants
won't ever really fix the fundamental problem.

The Final Chapter isn't
as bad Retribution but that would have been a hard thing to have accomplished. At least here there is a semblance of a narrative to make
sense of the carnage, even it deviates on what we've been told before, and makes a mockery of all the heroes and villains that have come together to give her a final send-off, with what in effect are short meaningless cameos. Through in truth, if anyone is really watching Resident Evil for any semblance of a coherent narrative or intelligent by this point, they're way off the mark. With action this undeniably good I'd be hard pressed to say there isn't something of merit watching Milla's perfect death bringing choreography, or any of the big picture perfect explosions; and I did find some nostalgia in the final scenes despite them ending up an insulting mockery. So as I said, better than the last, but I had very low expectations - 4/10.

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

Hype always makes me
nervous. It raises expectations and thus investment; and it raises the bar such
that any wrong step can feel like betrayal. It also makes it harder to be
impartial as the mob has already ruled, and laid a pejorative marker
against any who might disagree. It makes it hard insomuch that one doesn't
just want to be seen going along with the herd, and the herd are very much on the side of Director Yeon Sang-ho's Train to
Busan. Edgar Wright of Shaun of the Dead called it the "best zombie movie I've seen in forever", and professional accolades and plaudits have been thrown by dozen. Well hands up; sometimes the herd can
be right. I'll say upfront, Train to Busan, is arguably one of, if not the,
best and most complete zombie
film ever made.

Twenty or so minutes
in I could feel it. There's a moment near the start of every great disaster
movie, before the horror, action and actual catastrophe, where all the
trepidation, anxiety, fear and excitement you know is soon to come is
tantalisingly tangible. It's like being seated on a roller-coaster, slowly
rising up towards the first hundred-mile-an-hour gut-wrenching plummet that you know is
coming, yet can do nothing to stop. Seok-woo (Gong Yoo) and daughter Soo-An
(Kim Su-an) have boarded the early train for Busan, some 453km away. Fleeting
and fragmented phone calls and news flashes point to some greater and
more expansive violence and confusion in the inner cities. And a lone very
poorly woman stumbles quickly onto the train unbeknown to the guards and crew. It's as near a perfect application of the genre; the passengers embark and settle down for the long haul, and it's impossible not to lean
forward with sweaty palms, heart racing and a grin from ear to ear. It's the
zombie trope, but Sang-ho proves why tropes are tropes; if done properly
they can be beautiful and timeless.

Then it begins. To
say the ride is relentless would be putting it mildly. One becomes
two, then three, four, and before anyone has any clue, the train is a claustrophobic maelstrom of screaming, running and blood. The
following hour and forty is a barrage to the senses; perfectly paced,
unremitting in its savagery and able to totally subsume the viewer so that there's a coming together to share each high and low as one. It's as finely crafted a
zombie experience as I can recall. The train is the perfect vessel to constrain
the tension and the roller-coaster is the perfect analogy. There's no escape,
no getting off; just helpless surrender to the ride ahead.

The few confused and desperate passengers that survived
the initial onslaught are shaken and desperate, yet as a disaster movie and into the chaos, the experience is ultimately only as good as how they respond. An action horror spectacular it is, but Train to Busan is also an emotional narrative on good vs evil, of self-serving vs self-sacrifice. The zombies are at the end of the day quite neutral; they're
automated killing machines driven entirely by instinct to spread
the infection and never actually conscious and therefore responsible for their actions. To call them evil
would be to call piranhas evil; they're nippy little shits yes, but they're
just doing what they're designed to do.

It's the passengers and the conscious
decisions they choose to make in reaction that defines, in this instance,
morality. This self-serving; looking after oneself at the expense of all
others, versus, sacrificing oneself, or putting oneself in harm's way is the
recurrent theme throughout the feature. It's deliberate that Seok-woo has a
career that's perceived as selfish and his charge, Soo-An, is a small girl with
a huge heart. It's also no coincidence one of his first decisions is whether to pull
shut a door guaranteeing the safety of his daughter, or risk everything to
let Sang-hwa (Ma Dong-seok), a working man who ultimately comes to be
Seok-woo's moral gauge, and pregnant wife Seong-kyeong (Jung Yu-mi) through. His becomes a journey of discovery, of redemption, and the narrative an overarching exploration contrasting the best and worst of what it is to be human.

Impersonation is the
sincerest form of flattery and World War Z should be proud that Train to Busan
has adopted their vision of the zombie and, other than their own origin stories, I
could easily see each sitting comfortably in the others universe. Both
share the upgraded 28 Days Later zombie for velocity and ferocity. Both share
the rather demonic and inhuman veined appearance, and irregular and violently fitful
movement model. And both imply the same viral contagion, where it's all about the
infection wanting to spread with as much virulence as possible and not actually
about anyone eating anyone else. Brad Pitt may have spent a purported $190m, but Sang-ho
with his $10m easily keeps up, and watching each and every new vicious and
rabid frenzy of anger and teeth scream to life, ready to join the hunt, is
always exhilarating, and never gets old.

I don't recall a
movie, never mind a niche zombie one, that so consistently got so much right.
An action spectacular, a tense disaster drama, a human tragedy; it convinces on all fronts. Yet still at heart it's a
fearless zombie film, unashamed to wear the crazy undead gnasher loud and proud, front and central. Yeon Sang-ho has given the tiring genre a more than welcome shot in the arm with a visual and audio feast that, as said, is just about as good as you're going to get. And yet for all these plaudits, it will be the friends you've made, and the friends you've lost, that you'll mostly recall when thinking about it. It is complete and masterful storytelling that excels in all areas and a privilege to watch,10/10.

Sunday, 3 September 2017

With Season 2 and the group forced to flee a ruined Los Angeles up in flames, it's back to more familiar The Walking Dead ground. I say ground; as led now in part by Victor Strand (Colman Domingo), a single minded entrepreneur for want of a better word, the group are actually out seeking misadventure and intrigue on the high seas.

Setting the heroes on a boat and not on land was an inspired writing choice differentiating the series at the earliest opportunity from the mid-country claustrophobia of The Walking Dead. That being said the narrative is the same; with the companions dealing with increasingly maladjusted and dangerous situations, all the while picking up the skills they'll (some of them) no doubt need to survive into seasons 3 and 4. I say some; not everyone is made for the end of the world, but it's not as obvious as before, with all characters more closely vying for ineptitude and naivety.

The first eight episodes very much take over from the first series. Theirs is a discrete road (ok boat) journey of discovery; both literally to Mexico, and metaphorically, as they're actually forced to come to the conclusion that the shit-show is real, and there's not likely to be some magic paradise at the end of it. It's good post-apocalyptic drama, well presented and written, though now, out of the apocalypse into the post-apocalypse the characters aren't quite enough to keep things feeling as original or fresh. The journey being a tad too linear and the trials and douchebags on the way a tad too familiar. Then just as I was starting to worry, bang!

Whatever the reasons for what appears to be the huge injection of confidence and cash, the second half of Season 2 literally explodes in scope and ambition. Scattering the characters and their aspirations across a suddenly complete and city full of communities, power-play and danger, Fear The Walking Dead turns the dial up a notch and the results are stunning. The Mexican city of Rosarito and its surrounding area makes a great playground for the characters and also differentiates itself from The Walking Dead, with what appears to be lower population density; and hence fewer zombies, and an entirely different culture and landscape. The Americans too are the outsiders, itself creating a new dynamic in the story.

I've always been surprised how quickly and efficiently zombie survivors adjust to bashing in skulls and sticking sharp things into eyes and ears. One minute it's doing chores or revising for a mock history exam, and the next it's slicing and dicing like a seasoned killer; and to say the group's young'uns Alicia Clark (Alycia Debnam-Carey), Christoper Manawa (Lorenzo James Henrie) and aforementioned Nick haven't adjusted to the bloodshed would be an understatement. Then again, stories are told by the victors; those that did survive for them to be told. Just mulling over my own existence and all the coincidences and wins that would have to have occurred to each and every ancestor, however big or seemingly insignificant, is it not plausible that the survivors of zombie dramas such as this, could be as capable, or fortuitous as they are? Take Nick; the guy who stuck poison in his veins in Season 1, and the guy who thought he could walk with the zombies. The odds of him not only surviving all the things thrown his way in both Seasons, let alone come out of it all with a girl on his arm, is astronomical and it could almost be too glaring; too incredible; yet Fear the Walking has the feel of a great epic and it doesn't seem too much at all.

Finishing Season 2, I feel here is a show that's finally found its confidence. With a more expansive playground and seemingly larger budget the already well developed characters have found their post-apocalyptic strength, and yet still haven't succumbed to the despair and resignation that seems to be main ongoing trait for Rick and his gang. Also, yes, other humans did once again rise to take centre stage, and that's a small pity in my mind, but it's still top tier zombie story telling with huge promise and mammoth potential - 8/10.

Saturday, 2 September 2017

Say what you will, as to whether AMC and Robert Kirkman should have ever gone ahead with yet another unapologetic heavy post-apocalyptic zombie drama at a time the phenomenon was beginning to show signs of consumer fatigue. Then also perhaps overlook the rather trite moniker. The fact that we have got yet another big budget and meticulous zombie spectacular, no less, right back to the beginning, with all the confusion, discovery and false hope this brings, is a joy to behold. Where-as it's big brother is now nearly a constant slog of dark and bleak, but no less agreeable, with other humans the increasing major threat, it's refreshing to have the zombies once again front and centre. Also whereas Rick and the gang are now, with their years of weary survival drudgery, most definitely the definition of the walking dead, here it's still early days and, though yes it's not exactly all the fun of the fair, optimism is still tangible and ok, and the walking dead are still the ones with the gnashing chops and lumbering shuffle.

This again is not to argue that it's some watered down teen sideshow; a Return of the Living Dead Part II. It's just that this is still a world where it's ok to have inner moral conflict; where maybe people can be given the benefit of the doubt and perhaps strangers should be welcome with open arms rather than be suspected of owning an automated cannibal murder factory. Ok, for Travis Manawa (Cliff Curtis) and his extended family, innocence won't last forever and by midpoint second season the same cynicism and, some might say, realistic sobriety has finally made its point and been taken on board. But I get ahead.

The Walking Dead
didn't go right back to the beginning. It started with the apocalypse in full
swing, and the dead out numbering the living a fuck-tonne to one. Fear doesn't
just fill in the missing weeks, but goes one further, back to the minutes and
hours most people thought things might still actually turn out ok (cue the
laughter).

First time it was to
see whether the cable audience would take to prime time zombie horror, and with
its record cable audiences and Golden Globes, we know how they did. This time,
I'd argue the six part teaser / trial was to see, first off, if people were ok
with more of the same, and second if people would take to more disjointed and
delicate, but more realistic and normative characters, and with a tighter, more
insular family driven story.

Rick Grimes was, from the start, the gun toting, self-reliant larger than life comic book
character and his companions and nemesis on the journey complemented the
excessive story telling that became such a phenomenon. Without the comics
central to the narrative, writers Kirkman and Dave Erickson present, with Fear,
quite the different, more subtle, to start with anyway, world. If we're honest,
from Rick to Shane to Daryl to Michonne or even The Governor, characters had
identity tied to role and purpose. Yes there's character development, but
true to its roots it's more caricatures with either something to offer or some
deep flaw.

The Manawa / Clark
family immediately offers something different. There's quirky dynamics,
unspoken tension, complicated logistics and everything you'd expect in a modern
mid-American family set-up. Ok, it helps to secure the characters before
everything's extreme and everyone's under pressure, but even looking to The
Walking Dead's flash backs, it's not hard to argue there's far more depth and
ambiguity to the relationships even in these earliest moments. I don't think I
was alone in taking some time to warm to them all; Travis was a bit stiff,
Madison Clark (Kim Dickens) too sullen a matriarch and as for the rest I
struggled to remember names or what they were really for; and it was precisely
because they weren't as discretely defined.

It was Nick, (Frank
Dillane), the brilliantly cast son of Madison who broke me though. The
difficult junkie drop-out, and first to witness the return of living dead, is
perhaps the gateway drug, easily type-cast, his demonstrable nuance as he deals
what he's seen, and struggles with what he should do, amid his heroin come down
craziness, and the way this permeates through the family brought everything
together. I stopped seeing the characters as isolated identities but as social
and broken beings and it all came to life.

Fear also packs the
zombie punch, delivering all the highly polished horror goodness we'd expect
from the now seasoned production team. The end of the world is brilliantly
crafted and by the end of the series perhaps I grasped the Fear bit of the
name I initially frowned upon. The undead are scary again, even on their own.
They're not yet, anyway, just the obstacle, the problem to solve, but the
unknown and incongruous other. They're
also in this first series a temporary devastation; because of course things
will get better and return to order. The world has yet to fully fall and the
full consequences are yet to be grasped by minds that are clearly not ready to
process such information. And it's engaging, surprising, both heart-warming and
despairing, and utterly enjoyable as one would expect - 8/10.

Thursday, 24 August 2017

If I was to be
critical of writer / director Andy Edwards' shameless and rather trashy drunken
and debauched Ibiza zombie party, I'd be doing not only him, but you the
reader, a disservice. Ibiza Undead is neither high-brow drama, or a
pseudo-intellectual exploration of life and death; and it's certainly not
high-octane action, or horror, or indulgent romanticism. It's exactly what it
claims to be; a cheap, crass, brazen, coming of age party flick that wears it's
love of boobs and booze loud and proud. It is, of course, fully aware of what
it is and what it's doing. It's as professional as the next, but it's at the
party, as well as hosting, inviting the viewer to jump in and share the good
times while never trying to judge or preach. That's also not to say Ibiza Undead
is perfect either. It has its fair share of issues; but trying an unabashed
uncouth The Inbetweeners zombie film isn't one of them.

Setting the film on
the Mediterranean number one party island, and focusing on three horny young
British chavs on a mission for alcohol and 'pussy', one would hope the viewer
would know exactly what they were letting themselves in for. The three are lewd,
expletive spewing, penis driven British lads in the best The Inbetweeners way,
and just like their hapless cinematic cousins, and probably for the best for
all involved, they're just as woefully ill-prepared their pursuit of the
opposite sex, what with the charm, maturity and approach of boorish, obnoxious
teenagers suffering from Tourette's. They're also delightfully likeable. The
instant chemistry the three speak about having off camera, in a short making of
documentary, is clearly evident from the first awkward airport scene. Clearly not in an airport departure lounge; Big Jim (Ed
Kear) leads Alex and Az (Jordan Coulson and Homer Todiwala) in effortless,
effervescent and incredibly puerile and silly banter, and somehow it doesn't
really matter. Ibiza Undead is all about the characters; and though there's a
lot of them Edwards maintains focus and each has their role as the zombies
arrive and trouble begins.

The zombies of Ibiza
island are slooooow, and disjointed as if their bodies are aren't entirely
connected; and they're being controlled via semaphore, or some distant
puppeteer on dial-up. I actually can't recall a zombie quite this comically
lethargic or unwieldy, and though the Night of the Living Dead's turn of foot
wasn't exactly blistering there wasn't the same un-gamely limb ballet show
accompanying their gait. Effort has gone in though, and they are well made-up,
uniformly asymmetrical, and compliment the comedy well. In a more serious
zombie feature I'd be quite critical, but in Edwards silly little, yet
entirely coherent, post zombie outbreak world; with the infection contained and
zombies seen more as a myth and not that real or dangerous they work perfectly.

As said, one can't
fault Ibiza Undead for all the things it's probably going to be mostly
criticised for. If anything it should be applauded for sticking to its guns and
keeping up the juvenile humour right to the closing credits. The constant
barrage of sexual objectification pejoratives, does get a tad uncomfortable;
though it's probably quite accurate, and it's not just limited to the boys with
Alex's older sister Liz (Emily Atack), her best friend Zara (Algina Lipskis),
and ex Ellie (Cara Theobold) all happy to throw them about. Saying this though
it never truly offends, as it's the boys themselves that look weak and
silly with each and every barb, with the girls always coming out on top.

Yes it's a film that
if we're overly critical about could easily open itself up to accusations of
being rather light and lacking in actual substance. It's also definitely a film
which uses the story and narrative to set up all the funny little scenes and
jokes, rather than the small incidentals acting enrich a grander tale. It
also at times utterly fails to hide it's obvious budgetary constraints, with
some lacklustre CG and distracting scenery and asides. Yet; and I may take flack for
this, none of this really matters. It's a character driven buddy comedy that's
authentic to its ideas, well delivered and fashioned with love and care. The making of the film was clearly a party in of itself and this can't help but shine through. Crude,
rude and offensive, Ibiza Undead is an antidote to serious and clever, where there's no lesson to be learned or message to be worked out. It's shameless, throwaway fun, and sometimes, that's just what one wants - 6/10.

Thursday, 17 August 2017

Veteran (in so much he's done it twice before, with Outpost and it's sequel) zombie film director Steve Barker's The Rezort is
everything you'd want from a modern, action horror, sublimely crafted walking
dead experience. An original set-up, interesting main characters that shock:horror
actually show some signs of development; well-paced build up, well maintained tension, with the odd scare; and oodles and oodles of zombie mayhem,
carnage and death in both intimate and more grandiose scale. So where's the but
I hear you ask? Well, there was a moment a short way after the set-up and outbreak, suddenly watching a slick, contemporary highly
stylised zombie narrative turn into a rather generic and formulaic run, shoot,
ensign expendable dies, breathe, rinse, repeat trope, that I worried. It was a short
lived concern though, and having got the group from a to b to c the things were soon
back on point, for a second half, that while maybe doesn't quite live up to the
seeds initially sown, nevertheless delivers on its promise, as said, of a
well-crafted modern zombie experience. I've noted it didn't review that well; nor that badly, and this is perhaps it's only crime;
to be in a genre that's starting to stagnate due to excess.

Jessica De Gouw
(Arrow / NBC's Dracula) as shell shocked Melanie Gibbs heads a surprisingly
strong cast, of characters that for one reason or
another have turned to The Rezort for answers, some seven years after the
Chromosyndrome-A pandemic decimated mankind. With two billion dead, loved ones lost and society forever changed, some seek revenge, some seek escape and
some like Mel, supported by boyfriend Lewis (Martin McCann) seek closure and
catharsis by coming face to face, or more accurately gun to face, with those responsible.

One thing I do know
though about any and all attempts to control and constrain is best summed up by
Jeff Goldblum as Dr. Ian Malcolm in that other rather more famous theme-park
death-experiment. "John, the kind of control you're attempting simply is...
it's not possible. If there is one thing the history of evolution has taught us
it's that life will not be contained. Life breaks free, it expands to new
territories and crashes through barriers, painfully, maybe even
dangerously…" Okay, zombies aren't alive per se, but the same chaos theory still
prevails. How The Rezort's CEO and caricature evil capitalist big boss Valerie Wilton (Claire Goose) thought she could make her fortune exploiting an island of undead gut-munchers (un)fortunate to find themselves the only place they weren't quashed, in spectacle and sport, without thinking at some point something might go awry is baffling. I mean, hasn't she watched Jurassic Park, West World, etc...

When the proverbial shit does hit the fan
things turn bad with breath-taking speed and ferocity. One second a computer
glitch, the next, the operative has had his lungs ripped out and is making a
rather more sinister move on the second female operative one seat to the left
than usual. It's full on zombie madness, bloody, brutal and a delight to watch.
I'd perhaps, with a health and safety hat on, make the point, that for a
billion dollar enterprise built on a rather dangerous foundation some
additional isolation steps would have been expected, it still sets and steps up
the action for the small group left out in the field. One thing Barker does understand is zombie carnage and as expected in 2017, with an entire industry dedicated to making them look and sound good their look and choreography is faultless.

As stated, it's once out in the field the film openly declares itself a bit of a by the numbers, honest to goodness, zombie action one. Mel and the mixed bag of survivors, now under the assumed leadership of the conveniently placed ex-military sharp-shooter Archer (Dougray Scott), they begin their dash from camp to
fence to lookout post hoping to escape the island before the rest
of the world responds to the alarms and razes it to the ground.

While action and narrative can be accused of being a tad trite and stale, the same can't be said for the overall vision Barker, with writer Paul Gerstenberger has realised. In the midst of refugees and a world desperate for identity and healing, that a five star resort can pop up, primarily for the rich and bored to play God is quite relevant and cuttingly satirical. Employees inwardly sighing at the sight of rich playboys stroking their automatics and egos with all the danger and effort hidden is clever and I'm sure Romero himself would approve.

A well-crafted, more than competently executed The Walking Dead zombie narrative that delivers exactly what it promises and I'm not sure what there is to complain about; it's one of those films one should know exactly what they're getting themselves into. Cinematically and musically the Ibiza island vibe is delightfully fresh and stylish, the zombie frolics when they get going deliver the tension, head-shots and bites when needed and the pacing is positive and fresh. Jessica, Martin and Dougray present strong individuals who interact and evolve naturally to the point I would be invested in the idea of a sequel (with those that might have survived.) A brilliant British zombie feature, with
few bells and whistles; but you know what, maybe what with all the zombie comedy satire of
late, a faultlessly fashioned back to basics survival thriller is, for us true zombie fans, bloody marvellous - 7/10.

About Me

From post apocalyptic survival horror to European grind house to Caribbean voodoo. If it's the walking dead that scratches your itch this is the place for you. My aim is to review / comment on / ramble about every zombie film, if it kills me. Also known as Steven and live with a very forgiving wife and 2 beautiful full of life daughters on the England / Wales border.